


Four Times Felix Dated and the One Time He Didn't

by zappactionsdower



Series: 33 rounds per minute [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, bad parenting done badly, because felix will NOT use a cellphone god no, modern au but not too modern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zappactionsdower/pseuds/zappactionsdower
Summary: “So you want a cute girlfriend that can double as a chef?” Sylvain has that look. “Yeah, you're totally the type to want an adorable housew...”“Dimitri doesn't need a girlfriend.” Felix jabs his fork hard into his own slice of beef and deposits it with a loud 'thuck' onto Dimitri's lunch tray. The fool doesn't eat nearly enough for as many calories as he burns in a day. “Don't corrupt him, Sylvain.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: 33 rounds per minute [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634824
Comments: 16
Kudos: 253





	Four Times Felix Dated and the One Time He Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> Again - brief mention of self harm and unpleasant things but mostly Felix tries to have a normal love life an fails miserably.  
> Oh, and there is a momentary mention of suicide that... wasn't really a suicide. But that's a fic for another day.  
> This is in exercise in the sunk cost fallacy of "Hey let's do a three situation thing oh wait no it's too long oh wait it's unfinished."

The first person Felix ever dates is named Jessica. She has perfect white teeth, curly golden hair, and big blue eyes. She plays lacrosse, and it's how they ended up meeting. Felix and Dimitri go to see Ingrid try out for the team, and Jessica starts talking to him about cats and stupid big brothers.

Somehow, that ends with Felix asking her if she wants to go see a wuxia movie that weekend.

“I'm happy for you, really.” Dimitri says during fencing practice, and Felix considers telling him off. He keeps trying to be Felix's _friend_ , but they haven't been friends for years now. Not since Glenn ran off and Dimitri's dad died.

For whatever reason, no one else seems to see that he's gotten all... weird. Plastic. _Fake_.

“No one asked you.” Felix counters, because Dimitri trying to make conversation is really tiring. Felix only bothers because Dimitri's _good_ with his saber, and there isn't anyone else that can keep up with him for long stretches.

The mask cracks, just for a moment. Dimitri's smile falters, before he blinks and is back to creepy-robot mode. “Ah. Well. I hope you enjoy your movie, at any rate.”

The movie ends up being fine. Jessica doesn't talk during it, and she apparently doesn't dig through the popcorn bucket like Dimitri does to pick out the burned kernels before Felix bites down on them.

They last for two weeks, and then Jessica admits she's allergic to cats.

Felix isn't all that upset for breaking up with her.

The second girl Felix dates is named Bianca, although she prefers Becca. She wears her cornflower-yellow hair in a strict French braid, mostly because she swims so much. On Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, Dimitri does butterfly marathons at the indoor pool. Felix goes along because Sylvain's stupid and can't be trusted to do his own exercise if someone else didn't guilt trip him into it. He keeps time for both of them, and uses Dimitri's club account to get all the bitter fruit smoothies he wants.

Bianca asks Felix to borrow his towel, and they start talking over the sound of whistles and demanding coaches. She's taking cooking courses on the weekend and needs a partner that isn't going to burn anything up. Felix accepts, because his old man isn't home half the time anyway and he damn well prides himself on independence, even if he isn't even sixteen yet.

They get along pretty well. She's quiet, and sharp, and Felix learns a lot about sauces and fish and cutting vegetables. He takes her grocery shopping and she teaches him about fashion and post-punk.

“You can catch a lot of women, if you an cook.” Sylvain muses as he casually pokes at his slimy cafeteria salad. “Maybe I should take some courses too.”

“You don't take cooking classes to hook up.” Felix grumbles, sneering his distaste at the amount of ranch dressing that Sylvain slops all over his lunch. “How can you stand to _eat_ that?”

'Hey, your highness, what do you think?” Sylvain winks at Dimitri, who can't even be bothered to put any sauce over his carrots and beef.

Dimitri smiles, and it's so pathetic and _fake_. “I've always been impressed with people who can cook. I'm not really that good at even the most basic....”

“So you want a cute girlfriend that can double as a chef?” Sylvain has _that_ look. “Yeah, you're totally the type to want an adorable housew...”

“Dimitri doesn't _need_ a girlfriend.” Felix jabs his fork hard into his own slice of beef and deposits it with a loud 'thuck' onto Dimitri's lunch tray. The fool doesn't eat nearly enough for as many calories as he burns in a day. “Don't corrupt him, Sylvain.”

“Ah... well... yes, I am rather busy...” Dimitri fumbles, ducking his head to rub at the back of his neck. “i would never ask someone to...”

Felix scrapes his fork hard against his (healthy) broccoli

The thing of it is -no one else seems to get that it's not the _real_ Dimitri. Sylvain, Ingrid, everyone in their damn _school_ treats him like some kind of boy scout. Like some sort of fantasy _prince_ that exudes rainbows and charm or something. They don't _know_ , like Felix does, that it's not Dimitri at all but some kind of creepy pod person that one day, when no one was looking, slid in and took over.

Dimitri – the real one – was kind of shy and a dork that couldn't even groom his hair properly without Felix there to help him. Who always apologized for dumb things and let Felix crawl into bed with him when their fathers and maids weren't looking because Felix got too cold and Dimitri had bad dreams about being eaten by some black monster.

This Dimitri – the _fake_ , smiles all the time, but there's something dark and empty behind it that makes Felix's hair stand on edge. He hates it; hates being _near_ it but it's not like he can change schools and their stupid lives intersect too much for him to _not_ be stuck watching the alien Dimitri-puppet parade itself around, making friends and having teachers gaggle at him and coaches whistle at his new broken records.

He tries to tell Sylvain once. Just once.

Sylvain snorts. “It's called _puberty_ , Felix. It's going to hit you too, you know.”

Felix punches him in the arm.

Cooking class ends, and with it, Bianca.

“I'm sorry,” Dimitri says, towel slung over his broad, bare shoulders. He sits next to Felix as they watch the girl's freestyle division relay, and Felix bites back a dig that the blonde should be more worried about catching a cold when he's dripping water everywhere.

Felix shrugs. “No reason to keep it going.” Felix doesn't believe in _maybes_ and vague promises to keep in touch or worse – trying to 'make it work.' Glenn had said that, a few times, and he hasn't seen his brother for three years now. He's lucky to get a postcard on holidays with no return address.

“But you two seemed to get along well.”

“It was a _cooking class._ It's not like we were getting engaged.” Felix retorts, irritated.

“Still. It can't be easy. To end a relationship, I mean.”

Felx spares a glance at him. Purses his lips and tries to ignore the little voice that kept saying _why are you still here_.

Puberty's been good to him, really. Sylvain got all ganglly and thin and keeps inching taller. Dimitri's taller too, but he's broader; muscles rippling beneath bare skin. His hair remains stubbornly bright gold, still showing no signs of darkening like so many people in their grade

“Guess so.”

When Felix dreams, it's of strong arms holding him down, someone's warm, solid, _flat_ chest pressed against his own. A low, masculine sigh of pleasure against his throat.

He meets Ingrid's cousin Micha at her birthday party. Felix hates parties, but it's Ingrid, and she seems to like the flowers Felix picked out for her. Well, he and Dimitri at least, because Felix couldn't pick out roses without descending into violent sneezes.

Micah plays bass and enjoys kickboxing and keeps his straw-colored hair in a loose bun. Felix isn't even sure if he _likes_ guys, but he's fairly certain he likes Micha. He's kind of a punk, and Ingrid rolls her eyes when Felix admits they're going out to see a garage band play downtown.

“You hate grunge music.” she crosses her arms, eyes all but accusing. “And besides... we promised to visit with Dimitri this weekend.”

“I didn't promise anything.” Felix argues. “I don't need to be at his beck and call.”

“Felix, it's the anniversary of his father's death.”

Felix knows this. Knew it before anyone else did, anyway. Dimitri's dad died, and then, three weeks later, he woke up to his brother's room empty and his old man sitting at the kitchen table looking _lost_.

Felix has found plenty of ways not to think about it.

“Felix...” Ingrid warns, her arms crossed in the most no-nonsense way Felix has seen in quite a long time. “We shouldn't leave him alone right now. It's not...”

“It was a _heart attack_ , Ingrid. He can deal with it.” Lots of kids lost their parents. Siblings. Whatever. They usually don't turn into pod people.

Ingrid blinks. Her eyes widen, and her lips purse in genuine surprise.

“You do... Felix? Did you not...?”

“Do whatever you want.” He shoves his hands into his jacket. “I'm leaving.”

The concert is boring and grating and reeks of alcohol. Felix hates every minute of it.

Micah's mouth on his, after the show, is... kind of nice. He tastes like cloves and mint, and his hands are strong and calloused.

It's not nearly as good as his dream but... but he's not complaining.

“I can't believe you. You have hickeys. Why do you have hickeys?” Sylvain jabs his fork accusingly at Felix. “On second thought, no. Don't answer that.”

“Like you don't have them all the time.” Felix mutters back, trying to look away. Maybe he'd let Micha get a little carried away, but he's fine. Felix can handle himself. He can always handle himself.

“Well, yeah, but everyone _knows_ I'm no good. I've got a _reputation_. You, however, are supposed to be mister cold and aloof. This is going to be _the_ school scandal you know. You're tainting us just by being here. Isn't that right, your Princeliness?” Sylvain swoops his utensil towards Dimitri in a grand gesture.

“I'm sorry?” Dimitri blinks, and Felix can tell the fake-robot was a million miles away. Must have rebooted. He glances to Felix and then back to Sylvain, offering a placid, supportive smile that makes Felix's gut burn. “Is something wrong, Felix?”

“I'm telling you. We need to hook Dimitri up with _someone_. All these good looks and charm are getting _wasted_.”

“Sylvain, please...” Dimitri almost begs, and there's a slight flush on his skin that makes Felix more frustrated. “I...”

“Do nothing but go to practice or sit around in your house. _Alone,_ with just your maid-babysitter-whoever she is for company. It's _boring_. Do you know how many girls want your number? I'm going to start giving it out, you know.”

“What...” Felix cuts in,flat and more than a little vicious. “What do you mean _alone_.”

The fake-robot shutters again. Lips thin, and Felix can almost see the gears turning as it figures out the appropriate response. “It's perfectly fine, really. Mother is...”

“You mean that stepmother that spends all her time on the other side of the coast?” Sylvain pauses just long enough to jab his fork into a questionable slice of carrot. “You could be having girls over any time you wanted to. Or a party. Bet we could invite Felix's new boyfriend. Give him the Sylvain Seal of Approval before he makes any more moves on my little Felix. You two look alike enough that we could even switch you around for a night, you know? Get all Prince and the Punk Rocker or something.”

“What the _fuck_ , Sylvain?” Felix snarls out.

Dimitri keeps staring. His eyes flicker to Sylvain, then to Felix, then back to Sylvain.

“Oh come on. You noticed it too, didn't you? They're practically twins.” And even though Sylvain winks, there's something unnerving about the way he looks at the both of them.

Felix is suddenly not hungry at all.

He breaks up with Micah immediately after school.

The thing of it is, Felix likes being alone. The dating thing is new, and it's probably just overreacting hormones, but Felix _doesn't_ need people. His old man works late, and stays on the move pretty regularly. Negotiating contracts and overseeing different branches or whatever it is that he does. When Felix was younger, he looked forward to going along, but the day to day mundane aspects of being part of a corporation is restrictive and well, _mundane_. His old man had told him one day that he didn't want to bring his kids up being uprooted from one place to another, and that they deserved to experience growing up like any other person and not leaving everything they knew behind all the time.

Even then, Glenn still left.

He has a housekeeper named Alice that makes sure he doesn't starve or burn the house down and she's the closest to a mother that Felix has ever known. She helps him with homework and she respects Felix's privacy, and it's fine. Reassuring, really. His old man comes home early every Friday and they catch up with each other on Saturdays, when Rodrigue takes Felix to fencing matches and then lets him choose which restaurant to eat at. On Sundays, they watch an EPL match or two and then his old man packs up to leave again. Dimitri stops by for dinner, even when Felix is feeling particularly moody, and they finish their homework before school starts on Monday.

Dimitri never talks about what happens at his home. Or if there's anyone else there, besides an elderly housekeeper that Felix has forgotten the name of.

After Dimitri's father had died, he'd still had his stepmother and supposedly his uncle had stepped in to manage the house and accounts. Felix hadn't really paid attention when he'd been too busy going into his brother's room every fifteen minutes to make sure he wasn't imagining things. That's probably when everything fell apart.

Maybe, in retrospect, it had messed him up more than he'd realized. Mostly, Felix had just been angry. Really angry. He's less angry now, but a part of him still thinks there's something he doesn't know about; that his old man was hiding from him that made Glenn go away. They always seemed to be facing away from one another.

Felix figures there's no point in mourning over things that happen. They _happen_ , and it's not like you can magically reverse time. He just has to keep moving forward, towards the time _after_ high school and beyond, and looking back is just a stupid nostalgic distraction that he doesn't need.

Sometimes though... well.. he doesn't need to think about it. He shouldn't.

Felix will figure it out, if he keeps pushing ahead.

Dimitri finally goes on a date in their senior year. Felix catches in the corner of his eye when he's out with Ingrid at the local bookstore. He's never seen the curly-haired girl on Dimitri's arm in his life, but whoever it is is looks at the blonde like he's some kind of Hollywood-level celebrity.

Felix instantly _despises_ her.

“Felix, stop it.” Ingrid demands, dropping a too-thick novel with knights on the cover into his crossed arms. “You're staring.”

'What is that fool _doing_?” Felix grumbles, and is rewarded by having another book dumped into his arms.

“Having a good time. Like _we_ are supposed to.” She doesn't even bother to look over, which means she's missing the way the pod person parading as Dimitri is stiff and a little too formal, and how every time the stranger leans into him, his shoulder muscles tighten even more.

Dimitri doesn't mention it during fencing practice. He doesn't breathe a word about mysterious girlfriends during lunch. And he doesn't show up to swim like usual, so Felix can't interrogate him there either.

“I quit the pool club.' Dimitri smiles, like it's no big deal that he's breaking a pattern that Felix could set his watch to. “I enjoyed it, but we have college prep coming up and SATs, so I thought it best to focus elsewhere.”

“I wasn't acting about swimming.” Felix grumbles. “You have a girlfriend.”

“Ah.. yes, I suppose I do?” he sounds confused. “She asked me to see a movie with her...”

“That's... great.” Fantastic. Whatever “Just great, Dimitri.”

“Are you upset?” Dimitri sounds genuinely lost. Like _Felix_ 's the unreasonable one. “Felix...”

“Forget it.”

Three days later, Felix ends up making out with a senior named Dorothea at Sylvain's party. It's a dare, but when they end up talking, it's... not so bad. She's already bound for a performing arts college and is just burning time. Felix is certain that's all he's doing now too.

Sylvain gives him a decidedly strange _look_ , but Felix doesn't acknowledge it. He's sort of tired of his current circle of friends anyway. Maybe it's Senioritis setting in, or something else.

The girl – _Elizabeth –_ is there with Dimitri.

Felix pointedly ignores them both.

Dorothea teaches him all sorts of things. Reading music, and pitch, and different dances that Felix finds absurd but there's a motion to it that is fascinating. Like fencing, but without the danger of fighting someone else. She's easy to talk to, which is nice, because Felix isn't easy at talking. She also is a good teacher when it comes to driving, and they celebrate his driver's license with a long, eager makeout session.

Dorothea's good at teaching him about that too.

He spends time with her, and less time with Sylvain and Ingrid. Dimitri's busy with _Elizabeth_ , or something, and they only see each other in class. The heater's on the fritz, which is _ridiculous,_ and even with winter setting in, everyone's sweating and stripped down to light t-shirts or their sleeves rolled up.

Except Dimitri, who stubbornly sticks to a plain black turtleneck or dark blue button-ups that end up slightly too small for his broad shoulders.

“I suppose I'm just cold blooded?” Dimitri offers, which Felix knows is a blatant lie. Dimitri is a _furnace._

Felix has other things to do though, other places to be. Dimitri can lie to his new girlfriend.

It's like an avalanche, Felix thinks later. A little rumble, but easy to dismiss as _nothing_.

Until the whole thing comes apart.

“Someone's in a mood today.” Dorothea muses as she runs her finger along the rim of her chocolate-caramel latte. It's disgustingly sweet, and even the smell is bothering him.

It's definitely the smell.

“He quit fencing.”

She raises an eyebrow, and somehow, Felix knows he's being judged.

“Dimitri.” Felix clarifies, voice positively dripping with acid. “He _knew_ we had coaches scouting us and he quit.”

“So less competition for you then.” Dorothea shrugs. “I thought you didn't like him anyway.”

“I don't.” But Dorothea doesn't _get_ it. Because Felix can't _focus_ if Dimitri isn't there, forcing him to step up his game because none of their team is on their level.

“So why do you care?”

“I _don't_.” Felix huffs and glowers at his overpriced coffee. Dorothea has a knack for finding out of the way cafes, and at least this one is quiet. “It's just...”

It's weird.

“I just didn't have the time.” Dimitri says, low and apologetic. He's barely touched his cafeteria food, but Felix hasn't either. The lasagna looks _gross_ , and the salad's not much better.

“Because of your girlfriend?” Felix accuses.

Dimitri's eyebrows furrow together. The robot must have blown a circuit or something.

“Who?”

“Elizabeth. Your girlfriend.” Definitely a malfunction. Maybe the pod person is finally starting to come apart.

“Oh.” Dimitri awkwardly brushes a hand through his hair. “We broke up.”

For some reason, Felix can't feel happy about that.

“Good luck this weekend, by the way.” The fake plastic smile is right back into place. “I know you'll do fine, Felix.”

“I can't believe you.” Felix grumbles, stabbing hard at a piece of lettuce.

A scout from Garreg Mach talks to him after his fencing tournament. Immediately after finals, he's leaving to go to learn with professionals for the whole summer. If it goes well, he's got a spot on their team waiting. Maybe even more.

Sylvain throws him a party that night. Felix only remembers part of it.

He definitely remembers that Dimitri wasn't there.

Dimitri isn't in school on Monday either.

Or Tuesday.

Or Wednesday.

“I'm worried.” Ingrid admits, wrapping her fingers tight around the strap of he backpack.

Felix isn't. It could be a flu. Or... or something.

He's not thinking about it at all.

“His father's will came up two weeks ago. My father was talking about it.”

Felix doesn't care. He doesn't _care_.

“Felix... you know how he died, right?” Ingrid looks at him, her green eyes determined and hard. “ _Really_ know?”

“I told you. Heart attack.”

She frowns, her lips pursing as her hands clench tighter. “He killed himself. In his parlor. Dimitri found him first.”

The temperature drops in the room. Felix knows Ingrid's talking, but he can't quite follow her words.

It's fine.

Everything's _fine_.

By Friday night, Felix is glaring up at the large mansion that Dimitri calls home. He has a key, a carryover from his old man's close friendship with Lambert. But he never goes there – it's too big and grandiose and even as children, the two of them spent all their time at Sylvain's or Felix's.

He has a date with Dorothea. He's _supposed_ to be seeing her performance at the local college.

The lights are on, but n one is home.

It's magazine-perfect. Furniture in exactly the right places. A television on the wall, a set of expensive speakers in front of a leather couch. (Dimitri _hates_ leather and doesn't watch television.)

A kitchen with absolutely no dishes or utensils on the counter.

He hears a noise coming from upstairs. Felix anxiously runs up the dust-covered stairs, looking for something – _anything_.

The door is cracked on the leftmost door, right next to a broken vase.

Felix is pretty sure he's stopped breathing.

There's someone sitting in the shadows of jagged, overturned furniture.

“Dimitri?”

No answer.

He flicks the light on, and it becomes worse. So much worse.

Everything is wrecked _,_ wood in shambles and glass gleaming dangerously from shattered photos and mirrors. An entire bookshelf has been overturned, with old bound novels scattered everywhere.

And Dimitri's just _sitting_ in a corner, staring vacantly at nothing.

Felix runs over and grabs Dimitri's shoulders. The blonde jerks, brows furrowing in confusion as he looks up.

“Do you _know_...” Felix starts to hiss. “Dimitri...”

“Felix?”

“What the _hell_ are you doing?!” Felix snaps, trying to tug Dimitri up. He's cold, and Dimitri is _pale_ , and he's... he's not all right. None of this is all right.

Dimitri frowns, genuinely confused. “I.... I'm not sure. I don't... weren't we going to...?”

“ _Fuck's sake,”_ Felix tugs harder, and Dimitri rises, obedient. His blue eyes dart from corner to corner of the wrecked room, but there's no recognition there.. “Come on. Don't you dare talk.” If he said anything... Felix isn't sure he won't break down too.

Dimitri doesn't say a single word as Felix drives them both back to his house. They need to go to a hospital, or somewhere, but... but the way Dimitri is acting, he's not sure that what's wrong with Dimitri won't be made worse by a trip to the ER.

He doesn't know what to do besides get Dimitri warm, and somewhere safe, and then...

And then call for help.

He hustles them both inside, ignoring the startled noise as Alice tries to smother them with attention. Felix pushes Dimitri to his room and Dimitri goes, just as docile and quiet as a stuffed doll.

“Get in. Shower. Warm up.” Felix orders, pointing to his personal bathroom. “Do _not_ lock that door.”

Dimitri does as requested, and Felix lets out a shuddering breath as he sees a patch of bare skin. Alive. Dimitri's alive. He's _alive_.

Right.

Clothes.

He darts out again to rummage through his old man's room. Dimitri's probably a little taller now, but it's close enough. Just some sweatpants that he thinks Rodrigue uses to work out at the gym and a plain blue hoodie that Glenn bought him years ago.

He... he can deal with this. He can do this. He _has_ to do this.

Dimitri's standing, still aimless, at the edge of the bathroom. He had the sense to put a towel around his waist, but...

But...

Felix's heart jumps into his throat.

All along his left wrist, there are long, pink lines. One of them is fresh and raw from scrubbing, glistening but not bleeding.

“Dimitri.... what the hell is that?” Felix chokes out. No. No way. He knows what it is – he can damn well _see_ it, but it's not processing through his brain. “What did you do?”

'I...” Dimitri fumbles, looking down at his wrist. He tilts it, curious, like he isn't even sure what he's looking at. “Oh. Yes. I forgot. I must have done this.”

“ _Why_ did you do that?” Felix doesn't get it. _Can't_ Dimitri's... he's perfect.

Too perfect.

 _Fake_ perfect.

“I... needed to remind myself that I was real, I think.” Dimitri's voice goes distant. “Sometimes it seems very far away. As though I am just tethered and can be cut loose at any moment.”

“That's ridiculous. You're _here_ , in my bedroom. _I'm_ here. You scared me... us. Do you know how long you've been missing?”

“I don't...” Dimitri's eyes drift downwards. “I am not sure. Not much is making sense right now.”

Felix shivers. He can't do this. He _can't_.

“Here.” He finally holds out the pants and hoodie. “Just... get dressed. Sit down on the bed.”

Dimitri obliges. It occurs to Felix that never, not once, has Dimitri argued with him on anything.

“I'll ask Alice to get you some soup.” Hesitantly, Felix reaches out to touch Dimtiri's fingers. They're warm Normal. “Don't go anywhere.”

On the way, he grabs the phone and hastily calls his old man.

“I'm leaving now.” Rodrigue promises.

When they were little, Felix was kind of a crybaby. Especially if Sylvain or Dimitri disappeared somewhere and he couldn't find them. Sylvain would ruffle his hair and promise to get Felix a leash that he could keep on Sylvain, but Dimitri just didn't let go. He always found a way, whether it was by tangling their fingers together, or gripping the edge of Felix's jacket, or having their arms touch. Felix had grown out of it, or at least he thought he had.

Maybe though, Dimitri had needed that touch too.

The blonde eats a little, but mostly he just sits, head bowed and hands awkwardly fidgeting at the pocket of his hoodie.

Felix sits down next to him, and he struggles to find words Or anything. The adrenaline's run out of his system but he's still on edge; still absolutely certain that if he looks away for even a second, Dimitri will be gone again.

“I've put you through a great deal of trouble, haven't I?” Dimitri asks, not looking up.

“I don't understand.” Felix admits, because he doesn't. None of it makes any sense _. “Why?”_

“I don't know..” Dimitri glances up, and then his blue eyes flick away again. “I've done so well, doing what is expected of me. And yet it feels like it wasn't me at all. I'm not even certain if I'm truly talking to you right now.”

“Stop.” Felix inhales sharply. His hand flicks up to brush his annoying bangs away. He's spent so many years, thinking Dimitri was fake. He didn't even think about whether Dimitri believed it himself. “Just... who was supposed to be there? With you?”

“No one?” He tilts his head, thinking. “Uncle is... on a trip. Mother is away. If it's easier, I can ret...”

“No.” No way in the Eternal Flames is he going to let Dimitri go back into that house. Ever. “You're sleeping here.”

Dimitri blinks.

“Just... get under the covers. You'll fit.” He doesn't want to shower. He doesn't want to do anything that would give Dimitri an escape. “Lie down already.”

Dimitri fumbles with the blankets and finally curls up, blinking owlishly at Felix. Felix tugs his clothing off – it's not like Dimitri hasn't seen him naked since probably they were in diapers – and just throws on a pair of flannel pants and a thin t-shirt.

“Move over.” he grumbles, sliding into bed next to Dimitri. He'll worry about things more when his old man is there, or one of their friends call them, because... because he just needs some time. Some sleep, maybe.

He and Dimitri used to sleep together, all the time. He'd always thought it would be awkward now but... he just feels _tired_.

Felix reaches out and grabs onto Dimitri's hands. He listens to the soft, hesitant breaths as Dimitri's eyes flutter closed.

Eventually, he drifts off into an anxious sleep full of rain and ghosts.

  
Felix wakes up several times, usually due to Dimitri's fidgeting. He _kicks_ , and follows that up with clutching at Felix's hands for dear life as he whimpers all sorts of unpleasant things. But he doesn't seem to come back to consciousness, and it's a small blessing, all things considered.

At around four in the morning, Felix hears the telltale crack of gravel and a car pulling up.  
He untangles himself from the blonde, wrapping the blankets tighter around as Dimtiri's eyelids flutter. “Stay here. Don't move.”

The blonde frowns, but flops his head against the warm spot that Felix is leaving. Whatever. Just as long as he stays asleep.

Felix slips down to the front door, and as much as he doesn't want to admit it, the fumbled noise of a key gong in the lock makes some of the tightness in his chest unravel.

Rodrigue pushes inside. He's still wearing his suit, and doesn't even have a luggage bag with him.

Felix freezes as his father comes over, yanking him into a tight, suffocating embrace.

It's stupid. He doesn't even _like_ his father that much but...

But he's crying.

He _knows_ he's crying.

Felix lets out a shuddering whimper and buries his head against his father's neck. His fingers curl and uncurl against the black fabric, and he can't bring himself to move as his father begins gently patting his shoulder.

Rodrigue takes him over to the sofa and Felix collapses, still trying to hide his face. Goddess, this is embarrassing. He's older than this. Better than this.

The whole situation is just.... he just needs to wake up from whatever bad dream he's stuck in.

“Do I need to call anyone?” Rodrigue asks, and for once, Felix doesn't feel like arguing.

“I don't know. Dimitri's asleep right now.” Felix thinks of bright pink scars and empty eyes. “He's not...he can't go back there.”  
“Did they...?”

“He can't go back there.” Felix repeats, because he's tired and bothered and even when he'd fought with his own father, Rdrigue always noticed the second he was gone too long.

Even on the other side of the country.

“Is Dimitri hurt?”

“He's cutting himself.”

Rodrigue's hand tightens on Felix's shoulder. His old man bows his head, and then gives a faint nod. “I'll call our lawyer first thing tomorrow. And arrange a doctor's visit, just to be sure.” Rodrigue's hand pats gently, once, twice. “I'll talk to the school. You should take the week off, if you need to.”

Goddess.

It's exam week.

“Do you need me to make you some tea?”

His old man is a pain, but he's here. He's trying. Felix isn't alone in this... whatever it is. “You put too much sugar in it. I'm going to bed.”

Rodrigue nods. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

It's a long trek back to his room, but he's settled by the thumping sounds of his old man rattling through the kitchen. Rodrigue always made alarmingly bitter coffee and the smell had an odd way of settling Felix down.

Dimitri's sitting up, staring vacantly at nothing as Felix pads inside.

“Are you really here?” he asks, voice scratchy and sleep-worn.

“Of course I am.” Felix replies with no real heat in his voice. “I told you to stay asleep.”

“Oh.” Dimitri blinks. He tilts his head, reaching his hand out to brush along Felix's jaw. “You were crying?”

“I don't cry.” Felix tugs at Dimitri's unharmed wrist. “Lie down again.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” the blonde asks, genuinely worried.

“I'll be here.”

The weekend is miserable.

His phone rings too early, and it's Dorothea.

“I was worried about you.” she says, and it sounds genuine. “When you didn't come.”

“It's a long story.” Felix turns his head, and Dimitri's still asleep, somehow, or at least quiet enough to fake Felix out. “Sorry.”

“Are you meeting me for coffee?”

“I can't.”

“Is it Dimitri?”

Even the sound of someone saying his name makes Felix's chest ache. “It is.”

She sighs, and it feels final. “I think we should break up.”

It hurts. A lot.

It feels inevitable.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“See you around, Kitty-boy.” She hangs up.

Felix will miss her. He really will. He'll miss her voice, and her disdain for manufactured pop songs. He'll even miss her too-sweet coffee shops.

“I'm sorry.” Dimitri mumbles from against Felix's shoulder.

“I'm not.” Felix doesn't feel like he's lying.

  
His old man takes Dimitri out to a doctor, and Dimitri goes without protest. It's weird – Felix has gone so long looking at the _fake_ expressions that he can't quite deal with the real anymore. And deep inside, Felix knows this is real Dimitri, somehow more hollow and hurt than he'd ever realized.

He doesn't know what to _do_ about it.

It's driving him insane.

Instead, he busies himself with stupid things – calling Ingrid and Sylvain, and then hanging up before they could get too wound up with questions. He tries to study for his exams and gives up after the third page.

He goes through fencing exercises, and skips lunch, and wears himself down until he can't do anything more than sit on the couch and stare moodily out the window. It would be different, he thinks, if Glenn was still here. Glenn _got_ Felix in a way their father never did. Sylvain is a good person to talk to, when he's not thinking with his dick, but it's... it's too personal.

Finally – _finally –_ he sees his old man's car pull into the driveway.

Dimitri comes out, carrying a few bags of fast food. Rodrigue herds him into the house, and Felix doesn't even try to pretend to be disinterested.

“Both of you sit down and eat something.” Rodrigue pats Felix o the back. “Watch television.”

Dimitri stares awkwardly at Felix and then down at the ground. “I think he thinks you still like cheeseburgers.”

“They're unhealthy.” Felix grabs Dimitri's hand and tugs him towards the aforementioned sofa. “But I'll eat one if you do.”

“I... suppose that's fair.” Dimitri settles down, and Felix turns on a stupid action movie.

He doesn't see a moment of it. His attention's entirely on Dimitri, waiting to find... something. A baseline, maybe.

“Is it... all right for me to stay here?” the blonde finally asks, sounding skittish. “I don't wish to...”

“You're staying.” Felix says, and it's entirely final.

The next few days – weeks – are a weird tightrope act. Dimitri sleeps with him most nights, and when he doesn't, is next door in Glenn's old room where Felix can see him. Dimitri doesn't smash furniture, but there are nights where Felix catches the blonde just standing or sitting, unmoving, until Felix or Rodrigue nudge him back to reality. When Felix has to go to school or when his old man has to leave for work, Alice steps in. Even with that, Felix can't help feeling anxious until he gets back and confirms Dimitri hasn't done something stupid in his absence. They've locked up every sharp object they can,, and if Dimitri notices or not, he doesn't say. The blonde goes to a therapist every few days, and always comes back pensive and worn out.

Sylvain and Ingrid stop by after school whenever they can. It's awkward, but Dimitri seems grateful if t a little overwhelmed. What Felix always thought was Dimitri being fake, he's quickly learning new language for – _anxious,_ mostly, but also _worried_ and quite often, painfully sad.

Alice cooks way more food than necessary, and somehow is able to force Dimitri into a regular eating schedule. Felix has had more than enough experience knowing how pointless it is to argue with her.

His old man doesn't tell him too much, initially. Dimitri's uncle had been off toying around with Dimitri's money, and his stepmother is on the other side of the country with her daughter.

Felix decides it's better that way anyway. He's not so sure he could resist shoving his rapier into their chests the first chance he was given.

And Dimitri... he's... off and on. _Dissociation and long-term depression_ , Rodrigue tells him one night, made even worse by how long it had gone untreated.

Dimitri's mind is sick, but it can get better. Felix has to believe that.

“I suppose I just wanted to be what everyone wanted.” Dimitri admits quietly one night, gently tracing his fingers over Felix's. Felix doesn't mind it – it means Dimitri's _here_ and not buried in his own still-under-maintenance head.

“You're too much of a people pleaser.” Felix grouses, but it's not malicious. “People aren't worth killing yourself over.”

“You are.”

Felix is grateful for the lights being off.

“Not even me.”

“Then you'll be leaving after Graduation? To fence?”

Damn him and his off and on memory. “I've changed my mind.” It's just... it's not a good time.

“You're too much of a people pleaser.”

“Ugh. I don't want to talk to you anymore.”

“I always liked it. Watching you in matches.” Dimitri gives a rare, timid smile. It's far more awkward than the plastic doll ones he gave before, but Felix likes them better. “You always look... driven, I suppose. Like you're always looking to press forward., no matter what.”

Felix can't speak. Not without sounding ridiculous. Instead, he just tucks his head and mutters sourly.

Dimitri helps him pack. Felix spends every moment of it cursing quietly and glowering at both him and his old man. Both of them assured Felix they have a _system_ worked out, and he's not leaving them alone. It doesn't make him less irritable.

“Call me. Every day.” He jabs Dimitri in the shoulder. “Or I'm calling the police on you.”

“Every day.” Hesitantly, Dimitri reaches out to grip his hand.

Felix tugs him forward into a suffocating embrace instead.

Despite himself, Felix enjoys training at Garreg Mach. It's _intense_ , and most nights he flops down in his dorm room, each and every muscle aching pleasantly.

True to his word, Dimitri calls every night. Some nights it's just to leave a message that he's doing well and that he and the old man haven't burned up the kitchen (yet), some nights it's to just listen and encourage as Felix rants excitedly about an opponent.

Some nights he can tell Dimitri's barely there, but it's less common as the weeks tick by.

He easily slides into freshmen class when the semester starts. It's chaotic, even with Garreg Mach being smaller and more elite, but it's not... bad. Fencing still takes up a lot of his time, and he travels often for matches that test him in every way he ever wanted.

He meets new people. Lysithea in his science class. Bernadetta in his English class. Ashe, who has a weird ability to be everywhere at any given time. A professor named Seteth that he finds irritating but gives amazingly good life advice.

He gets a few requests to go on dates with his fellow classmates, but Felix doesn't really feel the need to. His schedule's already packed.

Dimitri had decided, after a long time talking with his therapist, to go to community college first. It's local, and isn't a massive change to his carefully-crafted routine. He tells Felix about new friends he's made – Dedue, who is calming and teaches him to cook on the weekend. (Felix highly doubts he's as good at everything as Dimitri claims, but whatever.) Mercedes, who is alarmingly kind and perfect, and is teaching Dimitri how to crochet which of _course_ Dimitri would find interesting. Mercedes' friend Annette, that Dimitri swears Felix will immediately click with because she writes music.

They talk more, about less important matters. Dimitri laughs when Felix gets righteously indignant about stupid professors, and it's a sound Felix can't remember hearing since they were small

He misses him terribly at night. It's different from how Felix misses Glenn. Glenn was always his own person; a good brother, but not good enough to just _leave_ one day and not come back. Dimitri, in some weird way, always felt like he was Felix's. A family tradition, Rodrigue had told him one day when Felix was a much angrier teenager, and Felix had thought the whole thing foolish. You weren't _born_ to be by someone's side your whole life, even if your dads and their dads and _their_ dads were in some kind of weird codependent relationship.

But now, with Dimitri hundreds of miles away, he feels like he isn't whole.

Winter break comes after what feels like the longest grind of Felix's life.

He hates airplanes, and airports, and time differences, and by the time they land and he's out and walking through the terminal, he may or may not be entertaining thoughts of knocking down every single irritating person that's blocking his path to the door.

Dimitri's not here.

He's _supposed_ to be here.

“Oh! Felix!”

Felix has to blink twice, and his brain doesn't quite click.

It's Dimitri, or at least a very good clone of him. Dimitri doesn't wear flannel, or faded jeans, and his hair is...

Its longer. Feathered around his face. Still golden-bright, a stark contrast against the dulled yellow lighting of the airport.

“You let your hair grow out.” Felix mutters, because it's the only thing he can seem to wrap his brain around.

“Oh.” Self-consciously, Dimitri reaches up to pat the back of his head. “Um. I... thought I'd try it for a little bit. Do you think it's bad?”

“It's fine.” _Good_. Much better than the Boy Scout cut he'd had through most of high school. “It suits you.”

Dimitri leads him gently though the crowd and some of Felix's irritation settles. He really does look good – there's a focus and a poise to his movements that had been missing for some time.

He stays blissfully quiet on the drive home. Felix spends the entire time just watching. Overwriting the memory of the blonde's empty eyes and plastic smile.

Dimitri had taken up Glenn's old room, and for some reason, it doesn't bother Felix all that much. It's clean, except for a corner desk that is covered in yarn and textbooks.

“I can't _believe_ you helped him put up Christmas decorations.” Felix grouses as he heads down to the living room

“He said you would say that.” Dimitri stands close by, looking relaxed and disgustingly beautiful. “I think he did it for my sake.”

“It's tacky.” There is garland strung all along the wall, and a tree sitting in the corner covered in whites and golds and glittering ornaments. “He always makes it _tacky_.”

“I'm... truly happy. To be here looking at it.”

Felix's chest aches with the confession.

Maybe it's just that it's been so long. That things are finally starting to settle

He gets up, slowly, and Dimitri looks at him, waiting.

It's a pretty poor kiss, all things considered. Both their lips are chapped, and it's clear that Dimitri doesn't have a lot of practice.

He nearly lets out an inelegant yelp as all of a sudden, Dimitri grabs onto his hips and lifts him up and... all right. That's... that's kind of hot. The blonde mentioned one night that he'd taken up swimming again, and he was always a brute, but actually _feeling_ solid muscle press up against his own is doing a number on Felix's common sense.

Dimitri withdraws, just for a moment, to bump their foreheads together.

“Um.” he says, eloquent as always.

“Don't...” Felix curls his arms around Dimitri's neck, leans in close to breath in the warm smell of cologne and soap. “Do _not_ make this awkward.”

“Sorry. It's...” he shuts up when Felix rubs downwards, right against a hardness that's poking his inner thigh. “That feels really...”

“It does.” Felix hums, darting in for another awkward kiss. “Like this.”

Dimitri hauls him over to the sofa and _Goddess_ , he's strong. He practically _looms_ over Felix, but it's fine – his hips are slender and Felix likes how his legs feel wrapped around the other.

“I've never...” Dimitri fumbles. “With anyone...”

“I know.” Felix reaches down, running his hands over Dimitri's shirt. Along his back, feeling the bumps of his spine. “So...”

It's another inevitability in his life, Felix thinks as he and Dimitri rut against each other for all it's worth. It just... it took a while to get there. Maybe they're still moving, and wherever they are, they aren't there yet.

He can live with that.

“So you two...” Sylvain waves hand awkwardly.

“What?” Felix huffs. Catching up with old friends is fine, but Sylvain's house puts his old man's decoration catastrophe to utter shame. He has a _leg lamp_ , for Goddess's sake

“Dimitri has hickeys. _Hickeys_ , Felix. You've sullied him. You should be ashamed.”

“ _Sylvain_ ,” both Dimitri and Ingrid say at almost exactly the same time.

“Come on Ingrid, this is a big deal. Isn't it a big deal?”

“We're not all driven by our base impulses like _you_.” Ingrid gently whacks Sylvain with a peppermint-decorated pillow. “It's not our business if they're dating.” She pauses, looking at Felix maybe a little too eagerly. “You _are_ dating, aren't you?”

Come to think of it... are they? Boyfriend seems... too simple a word.

Dimitri curls their fingers together and looks at Felix, as if waiting for permission.

“We're us.” Felix finally shrugs. “We've always been us.”


End file.
